


Worthy of Your Love

by NidoranDuran



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, First Aid, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6630406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NidoranDuran/pseuds/NidoranDuran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Azura cleans Shura up after a sparring session, and then makes sweet, sappy love to her husband, Anonymous commission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthy of Your Love

"I always forget that he can fight bears with that thing," Shura groaned as he stepped away from Azama, the spaced out monk standing happily in place, having been able to put up a disturbingly competent fight against the thief armed only with a staff. He went instead into the arms of Azura, his adoring wife, who held onto him as he groaned and ached, plenty of shallow cuts all over the place that needed tending to.

"You held your own very well, though," Azura said supportively, trying her best to ease the insult of husband, a crafty and able thief who knew his way quite well around both bow and blade, defeated by a strange man who wielded only a staff, turning an object of healing into a fearsome offensive weapon. "I'm very proud of you." She patted her husband on the shoulder and looked over to Corrin, who was congratulating her own husband while looking like she was barely able to stand beneath all of the fur pelts that he had been 'gifting' her with and ensuring she wore. Azura shook her head, feeling a brief bit of sympathy for her beleaguered, fur-laden cousin before turning her attention once more to Shura. "Come with me, I'll get you cleaned up."

Shura could think of few things more relaxing than that, and gladly let her lead him by the hand toward their room. There was something soothing about her presence and especially about her touch; Azura was as serene as still water, and even after his breath was left racing from a surprisingly intense sparring session with Azama, the mere presence of her warmth beside him, of her soft hand against his and her fingers threaded between his, was enough to help ease him into comfort by the time they had returned to their bedroom. "If I had used my bow I could have ended that fight much sooner. There were just no practice arrows around to use."

"I know," Azura said, guiding Shura to a chair in the middle of the room. She went about undressing her husband, slow and softly lifting away his clothes with care for the small scrapes and scratches he'd endured, careful to make sure no blood had left fabric stuck to any cuts. Azura did not know any healing magic, but she had picked up the basics of first aid and treating wounds from Sakura so that she could help her sister out from time to time, and she used those skills here as she reached for a bucket of water and a clean cloth, all set aside from when Shura arrived so that she could give his wounds the most basic of cleaning. Even for a simple sparring session in a clean environment, it seemed smart to. "But you did well as it was. Don't worry about that; it was just a sparring session."

What Shura didn't mention was that he had suffered much larger wounds in much dirtier places, that his immune system was strong enough to fight off nastier infections than this; the streets of Nohr were not kind to those of weak constitutions. But he never failed to let her clean him, mostly because there were few things as wonderful as attention from Azura, especially when it was physical. When he could see the girl who by all accounts should have loathed him for changing her life so radically instead chose to help him and tend to him in ways that went beyond what he deserved. Her fingers slid along his body, tracing not only his cuts but also the many, many scars that marred his body beneath the rather covering clothes he wore to keep cool and mostly stealthy on the streets. Shura wore the scars of an old soldier; he wasn't exactly young, but he had the battered body of a man twenty years his elder, bearing the abuse and scar tissue of someone who had seen more battles than he should have had to endure.

And yet Azura didn't shy away from him as she ran the wet cloth along the open cuts. She wiped away the red that had begun to dry and smear along his skin, applying clean water to his cuts in the process. "There doesn't look to be anything too deep," she remarked. "You should be fine once these heal over, no scars."

"That's a relief," Shura replied, shuddering. "I don't need any more of those." There had been many things in Shura's life that he had trouble forgiving. Granted, many of them had been driven by need and the hopeful good-doing of both survival and seeking to rebuild his old homeland. But one that lingered heavy upon him was stealing princess Azura from the Nohrian royal family and bringing her to Hoshido. It had been difficult to rationalize, that he had torn a baby from her own family and those who loved her as an act of political spite; they had simply paid too well to say no. He hadn't expected to be reunited with her two decades later, or for her to fall in love with him, a man more than twice her age. A man who had freely confessed to her what he had done and how he had changed her life.

And she had forgiven him. Asked him to marry her. Sworn up and down that she held no ill will toward him. Shura had never realized that all this time, it was everything he had needed; Azura's forgiveness was his redemption, and he finally found the strength he needed to move on to a new part of his life. A part where he was safe and loved, where there was a roof over his head and survival was not a bitter struggle. In some ways, seeing the Hoshidan life that Azura had come to live helped greatly in helping him overcome his issues; she was happier here, and now he was as well, nobody questioning her decisions to marry him or shunning him, despite his past. It was a strange feeling, but it was a wonderful one.

"There, that should be the last of them," Azura said, tossing the now scarlet rag into the bucket of water. It would have to be wrung out and cleaned later to remove the smears of blood from upon it, but she had other things in mind as she brought a dry cloth to his skin and began to towel him off. She turned around to face in front of him as she began to pat his chest dry, only to gasp as his hands slowly reached for her, wrapping tightly around her. He caught her by slow surprise, pulling her into a firm embrace and pulling her in close, his lips pressing against hers, and despite her attempt to dry him being interrupted, she didn't pull away as his lips pushed against hers. She pushed into it, cooing softly as their lips met. It was an interruption, but not an unwelcome one, and she savoured the closeness that followed.

"Thank you," Shura said softly, holding tightly to his wife as he pressed her lips against hers. She hadn't just cleaned him off, she'd given him the care and affection that he'd been without for decades, the closeness of somebody who care and who took great, adoring lengths to let him know that they did. His gang of thieves was brought together out of a mutual need for survival, and they had become brothers, but not the sort who ever felt truly familial; they simply lived and died by the same luck. The deepest cut could not have bothered him as much, so long as she was there to tend to him.

"I was only being a good wife," Azura responded steadily, even as she felt his hands upon her body in ways that were beginning to slip out of the realms of the strictly hugging nature she'd expected. She knew how much it meant to him that she helped him, able to read it in the subtleties of his body language, and while she didn't downplay how important it was to him, she would always be simple and straightforward in telling him that she would gladly do it for him.

"And now, if I may, I would like to be a good husband," Shura replied, almost a little playful as his fingers began to tease at pulling her clothes off.

"You may," Azura said softly, smiling into her husband's lips as he began to ease her dress off of her and guide her to the bed. By time the time her back fell against it, she was almost entirely naked already, the deft-fingered thief capable of effortlessly stripping her down. Shura lay atop her, measuring his weight atop her carefully as he kissed at her lips once more, but this time letting his fingers slide down her body, tracing possible routes through which he could go down. Calloused fingertips hardened by a long lifetime of constant, frantic use seemed at odds with the long, lean softness of Azura's body, her graceful dancer's body so pristine and gentle. And already, it was swaying against his touch as the promises of what he would do to her began to draw her down into the mood.

Shura broke away from her lips and guided Azura to slowly push up until she had her legs hanging off the bed but was otherwise comfortable atop it. Only then did Shura begin to advance upon the bluenette, starting at her neck as her head rolled back to let loose a soft moan. Then down along her collarbone, where the softest of nibbles let him feel the treat of her hips squirming a little more as he held softly onto them, knowing that they would hold the most fitful grace of her whole body. He kissed down the tops of her modest breasts and along to her stomach, a lean dancer's torso showing the faintest hint of definition. "I know you've seen battle before," he remarked, "But you're pristine."

Azura replied only with a soft moan as he slipped further down, slowing his advance the further he sank down. He made his seduction slow, toying with her with finesse and patience until finally his lips were pressing against her mound, making her breath hitch and tighten. She let it out with a quivering shudder as her toes curled and she bit her lip. "Taste me," she purred as he laid some soft kisses down onto her labia, letting her simmer in her frustrations just a little longer. She knew how much he liked to let the tension build, and she liked it too, but there was no fun in lying there resigned to her husband's cruel teasing; she knew what he wanted to hear, and the little needy pleas were music to his ears.

Tracing fingers along his wife's inner thighs, Shura got around to her request in time. A single slow lick tracing up her slit made her hips roll, and he set his eyes upon her whole body, staring up from her lower body along her slender form. There was so much grace in her every motion, and he loved this position for the way that he could see all of it, every little writhe that his pleasure brought her twisted and spun out into a sweet dance for his eyes only. There was no treat in the world better than being able to see the most beautiful girl in the world dance for him as he showered her in affection. Another lick, this one parting her puffy lips, made her gasp a little as his fingers drew inward and he finally gave her what she wanted.

His touch was exquisite. Masterful, even. Azura knew that fact, knew it from the very first night they made love, where he did everything he could to try and prove how worthy he was of her love even after she had given it to him. She'd expected it to be a first night thing, but it seemed his touch knew no tempering, that he had not thrown his everything into making love to her and that it was simply how his touch was. Or, maybe every night he simply gave his all to making her feel good; both were very wonderful possibilities in their own way, and she didn't care enough to sort out which was which as she lay there in delight.

Shura mixed his tongue and lips in with his fingers, shifting fluidly between so many different things all at once as he doted orally upon his wife. Fingers twisted within her and lavished her in attention as sweet licks at her clitoris left her shivering, only for those same fingers to soon after be spreading her gently open and allowing his tongue to slip further into her, all the while working his thumb in circles against her nub instead. Kisses and little nibbles against her inner thigh were followed by fingers tracing along the damp bite marks as he drew his attention back inward again, and she was blown away by what he could do, the attention he paid to laying upon her all of the affection he could. Whatever method it was, all that mattered to Azura as he ate her out was that he make her feel good, and she had yet to find a time where the touch of the man she loved failed to do precisely that.

It was almost a certainty that he could have rested on his laurels; Azura was inexperienced and in love, his touch the only one she'd ever known and her adoration likely great enough to allow him to coast on his skills. But he would have none of that, and ate his wife out passionately each and every time, giving her the love that she deserved for showing him that he deserved love. Their relationship was balanced, but he would forever feel a debt toward her for what she had shown him, what she had saved him from, and he made sure that all of the little things were always in place, that she was always happy and soft and that when her appetites were bubbling up within her, especially when it was his touch that had stirred them, that they were taken care of fully.

Perhaps it was a credit to their disparate levels of experience, the deftness of his hands and tongue versus her body's lack of knowledge, but Azura never had to be serviced for too long. He went down on her and threw all of his effort into making her feel good, and it wasn't long before she was trembling and gasping, her hips bucking upward in a very unsubtle and surprisingly powerful motion. "Shura," she gasped, her sweet voice twisting around each syllable, making them sweet words to his worn down ears as her climax rippled through her. Motion was upon her in ways that drew his eyes every which way; it was in the spreading of her legs, the clutching of her hands against the bedding, the roll of her hips. So many different reactions, but all of them brought together in a wonderful sway by the sensuous songstress.

Azura shivered, her bottom lip trembling as she lay blissfully down on the bed, her husband kissing his way back up her body much quicker than he'd drifted down it, until he was once more against her lips and the two were sharing a sweet kiss. She could feel his cock against her thigh, his need present and immediately, and she wasn't at all surprised by the way he rolled her over, on top of him and into his lap as he sat down, settling her against him, a position intimate and allowing their lips to remain together as she shivered, fingers reaching down to grasp it. Eating her out always left him aching, and she could not deny Shura the release he sought. 'You're too good to me," she noted; his hands had both remained upon her, even though he was so needy; he'd waited until she'd had hers.

Shura smiled as Azura slowly pulled upward, slipping the damp lips of her entrance up his shaft before she settled the tip against her core. One hand caressed her hip as the other ran through her soft blue locks, making sure he held onto her tightly as she remained poised in position to take him. "Not good enough," he said lowly into their kiss, his meaning immediate and making sure that as Azura descended back down into her husband's lap, her chest was tight. She wanted to give him the world, and was glad that he finally believed that he deserved it. But until she could, giving him her was good enough.

They both gasped as she took him into her, her slick, tight body accepting him with ravenous excitement. Pleasure swelled at the bases of their spines, and guided by his hands, Azura began to ride atop him, all the while keeping her own arms around his shoulders, loosely holding onto him as she bore down against his mouth, kisses and moans and just the softness of her lips against his. She sought as much attention and closeness as she could as she moved atop him. She could have argued with his remarks about not being 'good enough' to her, but she thought it better to just show him that he was through other means, by showering him with as much love as she could possibly throw at him. This was the only way she truly knew how to show him that.

Shura was no dancer, so he left most of the motion to her, to the steady roll of her hips as she moved atop his cock, the two of them both savouring the incredible friction together as she writhed in his lap. He kept his hands to caress her body, to trail the hardened fingertips along lean expanses of incredibly soft skin as he lost himself in her body. There may not have been curves, but the ample elegance behind every arch of her spine was more than enough for him to lose himself into instead. Especially when her head leaned back, offering up her neck to be gone at, kisses peppering the soft, fair skin there. Her body was to be adored, every inch loved and kissed and worshiped by the needy man, the reformed thief turned lover to the princess. There was so much to be astounded by, so many things that he wanted to do to her and only so much time in this world to do them, and he just wished he could spend eternity in adoration of her body.

"I love you," he groaned, his hips being drawn to work upward, not pushing hard into the sweet woman even as she rode his cock faster, never losing rhythm or poise even as the tempo swelled, as the song by which she danced atop him to became grander and quicker. She never seemed to lose that musicality, keeping perfectly in time as she moved with precision down atop him. Sexual experience may not have been something she had much of, but her body knew how to move, and it was simply a matter of figuring out precisely how to in this context. She'd proven a quick learner, at least.

"I love you too!" Azura gasped, and thanks to the lips against her neck, the rumbling moans that the words came out with vibrated within her throat and against his kiss. "Oh, Shura, this feels incredible." Poetry was never her strong suit, and she rarely knew what to say during sex, but the words she did say came naturally and frankly; from the heart. It was all she could do, especially as her body wound tightly around her desires and she moved quicker, need and arousal such powerful forces she almost never let herself be ruled by, but moments of brief weakness or intense need were simply inevitable at times. Especially in times when she was too far gone to care about anything other than reaching paradise within her husband's arms.

They came together, two bodies briefly shuddering in heavenly delight against one another. Shura pulled back from her neck as he came, his shaft trembling within her as he emptied his seed into her suddenly tight and quivering hole, and Azura quickly leaned in and kissed him as fiercely and deep as she could, clinging tightly now to his body. She shook against him, almost wild as the measured grace was replaced with something more frantic, something too intense and undeniable to be spun out into an elegant dance, but neither minded; Azura was showing him bare, naked emotion, and Shura adored seeing her in a state of honest desperation for the briefest of moments. Both could find something fascinating in that response, in the openness of the way her body suddenly lost everything familiar.

They remained against each other for a moment, moaning as her body slowed down, eventually coming to a halt atop him, their kiss lazy and hands just roaming aimlessly for lack of anything to do them but the certainly shared between them that all they wanted was closeness. It was vital that they keep that, that they never let go of each other until their spent, breathless bodies had recovered; making love was incredible, but the aftermath was its own silent, shuddering intimacy. Being right there, seeing each other through with affection in the aftermath of sensation, was the mutual assurance that the carnal was simply a way they showed their love as they didn't skip a beat in keeping one another close even afterward.

When they were done, their bodies drifted apart only for a moment, the two settling quickly beside one another on the bed, Azura in his arms as his head rested against her modest bosom. Slipping away from a position of intense contact into something softer required a little reorienting. Her fingers found his hair, the untamed bushy mess of white and black proving relaxing to hold onto. "I know that you don't believe it, but you are as good to me as anyone could be. But words won't do it justice, will they?"

"I know you'll never lie to me," Shura said, thinking that she was the purest and most sweet being in all the world. "But no, I don't think any words will ever truly make me feel worth it."

"Then I guess I'll have to resort to actions; while you were dealing with Azama, I spoke to Corrin. She has agreed to talk to both Xander and Ryoma to see about all three kingdoms pooling in some funds to rebuild Kohga. You and I are going to rebuild your home." She let it sink in a moment, feeling him tighten against her for lack of a better reaction; she'd seen the same thing when she told him that she loved and forgave him; for someone whose life had been so much struggle and torment, he didn't fully know how to express joy. "Would that convince you?"

Shura didn't say anything, but he found her free hand, and his fingers slid through hers, holding on tightly to her hand, and she received all the answers she needed. He had no idea how to respond, how to possibly but into words the many things he was feeling as Azura basically pledged to him the reconstruction of the home he hadn't seen in so many years that its memories had faded beneath all of the many scrapes and wounds he'd suffered. But in holding her, she knew what he felt in ways that spared him having to form words around it. Her response was to very lowly begin to sing, sweetly easing her husband into calm and slumber, wanting him to have a day ending on the happiest note imaginable. That was how she could show him how much she loved him.


End file.
